


Just Tonight

by bromfieldhall



Series: Just Tonight [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:30:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bromfieldhall/pseuds/bromfieldhall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night of unexpected passion leads to something infinitely more precious between two friends who don't realise the hidden depths of affection each has for the other. Romance/Angst and a little bit of Christmas fluffiness...eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: "Once Upon A Time" is copyrighted to ABC and Disney-ABC Domestic Television. I retain rights to the plot, but not the characters. This story is meant for enjoyment purposes only. No infringement is intended.

Killian Jones switched on a table lamp then sat down heavily on the edge of his bed and let out a long, drawn out sigh. 

Liam was dead.

Even now, a little over a week after the event it still hadn't sunk in properly. He still couldn't believe that he'd never see his brother's face or hear one of his ridiculous anecdotes ever again.

It was all so surreal.

One minute they'd been discussing what take out to get, the next his eyes had rolled back in his head and he'd fallen down in a crumpled heap at Killian's feet.

Undetected heart defect the doctors had said. Oh, they'd used fancier jargon than that obviously, but it amounted to the same thing.

Liam was still gone.

He shrugged off his black suit jacket then reached up and loosened his tie. With a couple of tugs he pulled the constricting fabric from his throat and tossed it onto a nearby chair before undoing the first couple of buttons on his crisp white shirt.

Finally he felt as though he could breathe again. 

Rubbing a hand over his face, he let out another heavy sigh. It was the times that he momentarily forgot that got to him the most, like when the phone would ring and just for a split second he'd expect it to be him...but then he'd remember that it couldn't be.

Or he'd read something in the newspaper and file it away to tell Liam later...only there was no later. Not any more. 

His whole life Liam had been the one constant. Their mother had died when he was a baby and their father had abandoned them as soon as Liam had been old enough to get a job. He'd never known one and the disappearance of the other had in no way prepared him for the devastating feeling of loss that he was desperately trying to navigate now.

His brother's funeral had been earlier that day and he'd managed to hold it together for the most part. Now, though, he could feel the weight of his unhappiness bearing down on him. 

The wake had been hard. Liam's friends and work colleague's had each been determined to share their last memory of his brother with him. By the time people had started to leave his forced polite smile had felt more like a grimace and, bad manners or not, he'd come to the sanctuary of his room to get a much needed respite from the stragglers for a few minutes.

The ball of emotion that had been his constant companion all day was getting harder to choke down. His aching throat burned with the effort of holding his grief at bay but he was determined not to give in to it. 

Not until he was alone. 

Then he would mourn his brother in peace.

There came a soft knock at the door and he drew in a deep breath as he prepared himself to go back out. No doubt someone was ready to leave and they wanted to pass on their condolences one more time. He was just reaching for his jacket when the door opened to reveal a woman with long blonde hair and a sad smile standing there.

“I just wanted to let you know that everyone's gone,” she told him softly as she entered his bedroom and shut the door behind her. 

“How the bloody hell did you manage that, Swan?” he asked, his cultured English accent sounding a little rougher than normal as he fought to keep his voice even. 

“Oh, you know me, I can be quite persuasive when I put my mind to it,” she replied as she walked over to the bed and sat down next to him.

Close, but never too close.

“One of the requisites of being the Sheriff of our fair town no doubt,” he countered with a hint of a smile.

“And your friend,” she rejoined softly as she gazed at him in concern, “How are you doing?”

“Bloody awful, love,” he admitted ruefully as he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “but better for having you to myself for a little while.”

She rolled her green eyes as he expected she would and he wondered what she'd do if she realised just how much he actually meant it. 

Run away as fast as she could most likely. It was what she did when emotions were involved. Especially one's such as he secretly harboured.

For five long years ever since he and Liam had moved to Storybrooke from England he'd been in love the woman sitting next to him. Completely and irrevocably. There wasn't and never would be anyone else for him. 

Unfortunately, the price for such depth of feeling was the knowledge that she'd never feel the same in return. It was small comfort that it wasn't just him. It was common knowledge amongst the townsfolk there that Emma Swan didn't trust any man with her affections. 

A terrible betrayal at the end of a previous relationship with a man called Neal had been one she'd vowed never to forget nor give another man the chance to repeat...and to this day she'd resolutely kept to her word.

Having been burned at a young age himself after a dalliance with a married woman that didn't end well, he understood her need to protect herself. He understood a lot about her actually. Could easily see through her walls to the lonely yet caring and amazing woman she was underneath. But from that understanding came the knowledge that it was useless to push her for anything more than she was willing to give. So, he'd offered the hand of friendship instead and after a time, to his delight, she'd taken it.

“When are you leaving for your book tour” she asked snapping him out of his reverie.

“In a couple of days,” he replied unenthusiastically.

Weeks of living out of hotels while promoting his latest piece of fiction wasn't appealing at all. As it was only his second book, however, he knew it was something that needed to be done. He couldn't rest on the laurels of his first novel even if it had been a surprise best seller. His swashbuckling tale of a nefarious pirate who'd loved and lost had appealed to both men and women alike and his editor had promptly secured a further four book deal with him.

“It's good that you'll have something to occupy you,” Emma remarked with a small smile.

“Aye, I suppose,” he muttered looking away, “Although I'm tempted to cancel the whole bloody thing.”

“Hey,” she said, pulling her hand away from his to gently place a finger under his lightly bearded chin and coax him to look at her instead, “You and I both know that Liam wouldn't want you to do that.”

He stared back at her seeing the shine of unshed tears shimmering in her eyes and felt the stinging burn of his own. 

She was right. If it wasn't for Liam and the sacrifices he'd made, Killian knew he'd never have even got the first book written. His brother had even indulged him in choosing Storybrooke to live. Killian had reasoned that with a name such as that next to the sea it had to be an omen of success. Liam had laughed at his ridiculousness and called him an arse but then happily indulged his whim. He honestly didn't know who had been more pleased when Killian had finally been published. The stupidly proud grin on Liam's face had lasted weeks and the thought that he'd not get to see that ever again suddenly hit him full force.

“Oh God, Emma,” he whispered brokenly as tears slowly began to roll down his cheeks, “Why did it have to be him?”

Closing his eyes, he turned away from her as the dam on his emotions finally collapsed. He didn't want her to bear witness to his grief but he found out that she wasn't about to let him suffer alone. Almost instantly her arms were around him, drawing him against her as she mumbled a shaky, “Come here.”

He tensed slightly but Emma reached up her hand and cupped the back of his head, pulling him even closer. With a soft murmur of capitulation he finally succumbed to the comfort she offered and slid his arms about her waist. Holding her tightly back, he buried his face into her neck as deep, gut wrenching sobs overtook his body. 

He didn't know how long he wept...minutes, hours...but even when the worst of it had passed he remained where he was, reluctant to leave the warmth of her embrace as he began to calm. Her fingers combed through his hair, the soothing motion a balm to his shattered emotions until eventually he let out a sigh and slowly pulled back.

Now that his outpouring of grief was over, he felt more than a little self-conscious but one glance at her face had his concern turn to her. She, too, had tears running down her cheeks and he automatically reached up to brush them away with his thumb.

“Oh, love,” he muttered tenderly as she tried to smile.

His gaze dropped to her mouth then before he could check himself he impulsively leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. He felt a tremble go through her body then she was kissing him back with an intensity that took him by surprise and set his blood aflame. 

With a little moan Emma opened her mouth and he deepened the kiss as his hand came up to tangle loosely in her hair. Far too soon for his liking, they broke apart but neither of them could seem pull away completely. Breathing heavily, he touched his forehead to hers as she clutched the open neck of his shirt. 

“Stay with me tonight,” he suddenly blurted out on a whisper, “Please.”

He heard her breath catch then she moved back a little to look at him. He held her gaze, his own unknowingly imploring as he saw the uncertainty that shone in her eyes. She blinked once, twice, then it was gone and she slowly nodded her head.

“ _Just_ tonight,” she acquiesced softly and then she was kissing him again, hard and urgent.

His heart flipped then began to pound heavily in his chest. He knew from her tone that she was telling him that this would only be a one time thing and as much as that hurt, if one night was all she was willing to give him then he was going to make damn sure that it was one they'd both never forget.

With infinite tenderness he spent the next couple of hours letting Emma Swan know how much he cared for her, how much he cherished her...loved her. 

Not with words but with his body. 

He made love to her slowly, taking his time to discover every single delectable inch of body as he sought to draw out her pleasure for as long as he could. Committing to memory each breathy sigh she made, each drawn out moan she uttered, each urgent call of his name as her fingers dug into his scalp to hold him place where she needed him most. Every touch, every caress was a personal declaration of his abiding affection as he pushed her over the edge twice with his talented tongue and deft hands. Finally they joined together as one and their cautious movements soon gave way to a rhythm so in synch it was as though they'd been lovers forever. The third time she reached her peak, his own cry of ecstasy briefly mingled with hers before he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily.

When he tried to move so as not to crush her, she held him tight and kissed him languidly on the lips stoking the flames of his not so dormant ardour. Kissing soon gave way to touching but it was _Emma_ that took the lead this time. The feel of her hands and her mouth on his body drove him wild as she seemed intent on mapping every part of him in the same way he had her. The brush of her hair as she moved down his body both tickled and sent shock-waves of lust throughout his entire being at the same time. And then she was moving above him, fingernails raking through the fine hair on his chest as she threw her head back, the mixture of pleasure and pain only fuelling his desire as she pushed them both relentlessly to their release. 

They peaked together then he gathered her close, pulling her back against him. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder as she laid her hand over his where it rested possessively around her waist and soon he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

When he awoke the next morning, Emma was gone.

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

It was late in the evening when Emma sat down at her desk in the Sheriff's office and picked up the nearest report. She stared at it blankly for a full two minutes then let out a huff of annoyance and put it back down before pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Opening up the contact list, she scrolled through the embarrassingly few names she had stored until she came to Killian's. Biting her lip in contemplation, her thumb hovered over his number for a few seconds then she closed her eyes and let her head drop forward onto the desk with a dull thud.

It had been two days since they'd spent that wholly unexpected but completely amazing night together.

Well, most of the night anyway...

Dawn had been breaking when she'd awoken. The first rays of warm sunlight were spilling in through the window as she'd groggily opened her eyes and found herself sprawled across Killian's chest with her head tucked snugly under his chin. Her body had sported that pleasurable ache that comes with thorough lovemaking and as she'd moved slightly his arms had tightened around her, holding her close. 

The feeling of rightness in that moment had made her smile at first but then it sent tiny little triggers of alarm through her system.

She knew she'd been playing with fire by agreeing to stay but she'd unable to deny him...or herself. Her muttered condition of, 'just tonight' had been directed at herself. A caution she'd unwittingly said aloud in a moment of weakness, a desire to, just that once, experience what it'd feel like to be in the arms of the man with whom she was in love. 

So while he'd been merely seeking some comfort, she'd been loving him with her entire being, letting him know with her touch what she couldn't voice aloud.

She should have known that it wouldn't be enough though. God help her but she'd felt more cherished in that one single night with Killian than she'd ever had in all those months with Neal. 

That's why she'd left before he'd woken up. Why she'd been doing her utmost since then to avoid the hell out of him. She knew he didn't feel anything for her other than friendship and she was terrified that if she was around him, spoke to him even, she'd give herself away. 

Emma let out a small groan of consternation then thumped her head on the wooden table a couple of times in self reproach. 

She didn't even know when or how it had happened. Ever since Neal's betrayal she'd been so determined never to feel that way for a man again, never to let herself be that vulnerable; but somewhere along the line Killian Jones with his too blue eyes and charming smile, steadfast support and incredibly kind heart had sneaked into her own and laid claim to it when she hadn't been looking.

“Are you okay, Swan?”

Killian's voice made her jump and she quickly raised her head to see him leaning against the door jamb of her office as if he owned the place. There was a concerned look upon his handsome face and she frowned slightly as she slowly sat back up then self-consciously smoothed down her hair.

“How did you get in?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“David very kindly unlocked the station for me,” he told her as he pushed away from the door and stepped into her office.

Dressed in black jeans, a dark blue shirt and black leather biker's jacket, he looked every inch the modern day version of the very pirate's he loved to write about so much.

“I'll have to speak to him about that,” she muttered looking away, as he sat down on the chair across from her with an easy grace.

His shirt was open at the neck exposing his lightly tanned skin and a deep V of chest hair that brought back erotic memories she determinedly pushed aside.

“Don't be too hard on him, love,” he advised with a small smile, “I told him I needed to speak to you before I left tomorrow morning.”

“I thought we said all we had to say earlier,” she retorted guiltily thinking back to the stilted goodbye she'd given him at Granny's diner that afternoon.

It had only been the fourth time she'd seen him in the past two days and the second that she'd actually spoken to him directly.

“Not quite,” he replied, raising a hand to scratch behind his ear in what Emma recognised was a sign of his discomfort, “After the book tour is over, I'm going back to England.”

Emma froze as her stomach lurched unpleasantly. He was leaving? Of course he was, it's what everyone did to her in the end.

“England?” she repeated with an attempt at nonchalance.

She glanced at him briefly before looking blindly around and picking up the nearest report again and staring at it as though his news meant nothing when in reality it meant quite the opposite.

“Aye,” he confirmed softly before continuing, “I have an idea for my next book and I want to set in Cornwall. I thought it would be the perfect time to go back and do some research. Get a feel for the place again. Maybe meet up with a few old friends. I plan to be back here for Christmas.”

“I see,” she forced out making a show of turning the page even as relief at the knowledge that he was coming back made her sag a little.

Still, Christmas...that was five damn months away.

“I had thought that after the way you've been acting towards me the last couple of days my prolonged absence would make you a little happier,” he remarked dryly after a moment when she continued to peruse the file.

She looked at him briefly then shrugged.

“I don't know what you mean,” she lied.

His answering laugh was low and rumbling and sent an unexpected frisson of pleasure down her spine. 

“Emma,” he mildly rebuked on a drawn out sigh, causing another little dart of awareness to surge through her body, “this is the most we've spoken in two days and you can't even look at me for more than five seconds before turning away.”

“Of course I can,” she immediately refuted and brought her gaze to his to prove the point.

He stared back at her warmly, tenderly even as a small smile played at his lips and she swore she could feel the temperature in the room rise a few degrees. She mentally counted to seven. Seven, for goodness sake, then she had to look away.

She heard him sigh heavily again as she went back to pretending to read the report, then he stood up. She stiffened as he came around her desk and stopped by her side.

“I'll see you when I get back, love,” he told her quietly, “perhaps by then you can have forgiven me and we can start afresh.”

She closed her eyes as he bent and placed a gentle kiss upon her cheek then with a murmured, “Goodbye, Emma,” he was gone.

She simply stared at the door for what seemed like hours as she tried to make sense of what he'd said. Did he really think that she blamed him for their night? That he'd somehow coerced her to stay?

She let out a groan of disgust at herself that through her attempts at self preservation he believed he was at fault somehow.

She put the file down then picked up her phone and quickly selected his number before dialling it. 

“Swan?” came Killian's cautious sounding voice down the line.

“There's nothing to forgive,” she blurted out breathlessly, “I wanted to stay with you and I'm glad I did.”

Silence met her claim and she wondered if she'd said too much.

“I'm glad that you did too, Emma,” he finally said sounding a little choked, “It...that night meant a lot to me.”

“Me too,” she whispered back, glad that she'd been of comfort to him when he'd needed it. If nothing else she'd never regret what had happened for that alone, “Have a safe trip, Killian, and I'll see you when you get back.”

“I'll look forward to it, love,” he replied, his voice low.

They bade each other farewell and she ended the call with a small smile and lighter heart. She was going to miss him but at least by the time he got back she would have got control of her emotions once more. 

Nine weeks later Emma sat on her bed and stared at the small, white plastic stick in shock. Two little lines stared back at her confirming what she'd suspected for the past few days. 

She was pregnant.

With Killian's baby.

And she had no idea what the hell she was going to do.

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The crisp fresh snow crunched loudly under his feet as Killian made his way steadily along the sidewalk.   
He pulled the collar of his thick, black woollen coat up a little further to try and ward off the chill then shifted the brown paper wrapped package he carried to a more comfortable position under his arm. 

There were few people out on the streets of Storybrooke, the weather and it being Christmas Eve meant that they were more than likely sitting in front of warm fires with their loved ones.

He'd only arrived back in the country that morning. His flight out of England had been delayed a couple of days due to inclement weather. In the end he'd accepted the first flight out but had then had to get a further connecting flight to ensure he reached Maine. One rental car later he'd finally made it home and had dumped his bags in his apartment before heading out into the freezing cold again.

He couldn't wait to see Emma.

They hadn't spoken during his absence, just exchanged a couple of text messages to ensure the other was okay...as all friends do. 

Except they weren't anymore. Not really. They'd crossed a line now. He could no more forget that night than he could his own name. He'd been devastated when he'd awoken to find her gone and then when she'd been so cold towards him in the days that followed he truly thought he'd ruined everything.

It wasn't until she'd called him after he'd tried to talk to her and admitted that she'd wanted to stay with him that he'd felt the first stirrings of hope. A hope that there might be the chance for something more between them. Just the fact that she didn't regret it, that she told him as much, that it meant something to her, spoke volumes to him because Emma Swan didn't do that. She always closed herself off when it came to anything personal. He'd seen her do it time and again but for once, for him, she hadn't.

Still, as much as he clung to that knowledge, he knew it wasn't wise to push her. If he tried to talk to her about it, she'd likely erect those protective walls of hers sky high again so he had to think of a way to let her know that he cared without scaring her away.

And unexpectedly, he had.

He checked the package under his arm again and smiled a little to himself. It was his new book. He'd written the whole damn thing in eight weeks. He still couldn't believe it.

Once he'd got to England he'd spent a few days catching up with old friends, sharing drinks and remembering Liam then he'd headed down to Cornwall where he'd rented a small cottage by the sea. At that time of year the tourist season was over and he'd managed to get himself quite a good deal on a place not far from Penzance. He'd researched a few local area's, visited some of the smuggler's haunts including the famous Jamaica Inn then had collated all his notes together and begun to write. He'd only expected to get the bare bones down but once he'd started the words had flowed.

The fact that he had Emma in mind as the heroine had only fuelled his writing as he'd woven a tale of a feisty princess kidnapped and treated badly by a vile prince. She's then rescued by a dashing pirate turned privateer sent by her parents to find her and the two eventually fall in love on their adventurous journey home.

It wasn't until he read through it all that he realised he'd written what amounted to one long love letter to Emma Swan. Everything he felt, he'd poured into the book. Everything he couldn't say, the pirate had been his mouthpiece. It had been a catharsis on his soul and he'd found a perfect way to tell her how he felt without having to say it aloud. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he used his contacts and pulled a few strings to get a copy published in order that he could give it to Emma as a gift for Christmas. 

He saw the lights of Granny's Diner gleaming ahead and hastened his pace as best as he could with the slippery snow beneath his feet. Once he got there he stopped outside and peered in through the windows just on the off chance that he'd spy the familiar flash of long blonde hair that would tell him that Emma was inside.

When it became evident that she wasn't, he set off again, this time in the direction of the Sheriff's office. It didn't take him long to reach the station and to his relief it was still open this time. As he entered the building he could hear the cheery, festive tune of 'Jingle Bell Rock' playing somewhere in the distance and headed towards the sound. It led him to her office and he stopped at the door, his heart slamming in his chest as he took a moment to simply drink in the sight of her once more.

God he'd missed her.

She was standing at a filing cabinet looking through a drawer with her back to him. His gaze roamed over her form taking in the way her golden hair fell in soft waves down her slender back. She was wearing a ridiculously oversized dark blue sweater that skimmed her black legging clad thighs while a knee high boot encased foot tapped along to the beat of the song.

“This is the second time I've managed to creep up on you, Swan,” he began as he stepped into the room, “Perhaps I should stop writing and become a cat burglar instead.”

Emma let out a gasp of surprise and turned her head to look at him, her eyes widening in shock.

“Killian?” she queried dubiously, blinking a couple of times as if she didn't quite believe what she was seeing, “You're back.”

“Well I did tell you that I'd be home for Christmas, love,” he reminded her with a grin as he walked further into the room, “Did you doubt me?”

Something flashed in her eyes before she looked away and his smile fell a little when he realised that she had. It pained him that she thought he wouldn't come back.

“I wouldn't have blamed you if you had decided to stay,” she said as she pulled out a handful of files and shut the drawer with a slam. Clutching the paperwork to her stomach she turned then quickly sat down at her desk before adding curtly, “England is your home after all.”

“No, it's where I was born, Storybrooke is my home now,” he corrected her patiently when he suddenly realised what she was doing, “I can assure you, I'm not going anywhere, love.”

For the first time since he'd arrived she looked at him properly and he returned her gaze steadily, letting her know that he meant what he said.

“Good,” she finally replied in a low voice, a small smile playing at her lips. 

His own smile returned as he silently placed his book down on the desk and slid it over to her.

“What is that?” she asked, eyeing the package with a slight frown.

“Open it and you'll find out,” he suggested lightly.

She gave him a mildly annoyed glance then picked the parcel up and slowly unwrapped it. 

“Is this your new book?” she asked incredulously, glancing up at him in amazement.

“Aye.”

“And you wrote this while you you were away?” she questioned again, disbelief clouding her tone.

“I found I was greatly inspired,” he replied wryly.

She studied the front cover a moment then slowly turned it around to face him. Eyebrow arched, she commented sardonically, “But not with the title apparently. The Princess and The Pirate? Really? Isn't that a bit cliché...even for you?”

He laughed and shook his head.

“If you can think of a better one once you've read it, I'll happily change it,” he offered gallantly.

“I'll hold you to that,” she promised as she placed the book back down.

“I'd expect nothing less,” he replied agreeably then walked around the desk and sat down on the edge by her side, “Until then, how about we go to Granny's and get one of your favourite hot chocolate drinks? Extra cinnamon. My treat.”

His good humour deserted him a little when she tensed at his nearness then quickly leaned forward and placed her arms on the desk. Shooting him a brief apologetic smile, she shook her head before looking away.

“Sorry, I can't, I have plans tonight,” she explained as she picked up a file and opened it.

“Plans?” Killian repeated a little more sharply than he'd intended.

When she looked at him with a slight frown he quickly pasted a fake smile on his face as though the sudden stab of jealousy he'd experienced at the thought that she might have 'plans' with another man didn't just happen. 

“Yeah, David and Mary-Margaret asked me over for dinner,” she said, still looking at him curiously.

His smile immediately widened into a grin as relief spread through him and he was overcome with the urge to lean forward and simply kiss her for the hell of it. He began to move and saw Emma's eyes widen slightly before the strident ring of the office telephone sliced through the air causing him to jerk back.

Emma quickly answered the call and from what he could hear of her side of the conversation, David was on his way to pick her up.

“I have to go,” she told him when she replaced the receiver a few minutes later, “but there's a couple of things I need to get done first.”

“Anything I can help you with?” he asked, reluctant to leave her quite yet.

“No, they're...confidential,” she replied after a moments hesitation that told him she wasn't telling the truth.

“Ah, of course,” he remarked with a nod and half-smile as he stood up and turned to go, “Well, in that case I'd better take my leave.” 

He walked over to the door then stopped and turned to look back at her questioningly when her heard her call out his name. 

“I...I...,” she began, her expression one of consternation, as if she were struggling with some kind of internal conflict.

“Yes?” he prompted when she fell silent.

She regarded him silently for a moment then her expression cleared and she gave him a soft, if faintly resigned, smile. 

“Thanks for the book.”

“You're welcome,” he responded softly after a moment, wondering what it was that she had wanted to say, “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, Killian.”

With one last tender smile he held her gaze across the room, silently telling how he felt before turning abruptly away and heading out of the station into the chilly night. 

END CHAPTER THREE


	4. Chapter 4

“You know that now he's back you can't put off telling him any longer, don't you, Emma?” Mary-Margaret admonished softly as she sat down next to her on the couch.

They'd finished their meal and she'd just made their guest some hot chocolate while David was in the kitchen area washing the dishes.

The blonde let out a sigh and nodded. She'd been expecting this conversation ever since she'd told them that Killian was back in Storybrooke. She still wasn't quite over the shock of him just turning up at the station like that. Thank God she'd been able to hide her condition from him. She wanted to be prepared when she told him. Prepared for his shock or his denial or worse, his refusal to have anything more to do with her. It didn't even enter her head that he might be happy with the news. Why would it when it had taken her so long to get used to the idea herself?

“I know,” she finally replied, “I'm just waiting for the right time.” 

“You've been waiting for the right time for the past three months,” Mary-Margaret reminded her wryly, “First you wouldn't say anything because of his book tour, then because he was going back to England...”

“Those things were important to him,” Emma cut in defensively, “I didn't want him just abandoning everything because he felt obligated to me.”

“Don't you think that you're important to him too?” the brunette queried incredulously.

Emma stared at her friend and suddenly everything she'd been holding in came crashing down upon her in one huge emotional wave. All the years she'd been hiding her feelings, not only from him but herself as well. The worry of her pregnancy, her concern over his reaction, it was all too much and the need to just talk about it was overwhelming.

“Not in the way I want to be,” she confessed shakily with a sad smile.

Seemingly unsurprised, Mary-Margaret stared at her friend for a long moment then let out a soft sigh and nodded.

“Perhaps you should tell him that then.”

“What's the point? He doesn't feel the same,” she replied feeling the sting of tears pricking at the back of her eyes now that she'd actually said it aloud.

“Are you sure?” Mary-Margaret challenged before observing wisely, “Perhaps he's just as good at hiding his true feelings as you are.”

At her words, Emma suddenly recalled his reaction to her having plans that evening. He'd acted a little jealously but then covered it quickly and then there had been that moment just before David rang the station when she thought that Killian had been about to kiss her. She'd dismissed it afterwards as just wishful thinking on her part but...what if it hadn't been? 

What if Mary-Margaret was right?

Certainly when she thought back to the night they'd shared, it felt like more than just him seeking comfort. The way he'd been with her, so tender and loving, so passionate and caring. They'd connected on a level she hadn't even known could exist between two people.

It couldn't have been like that if he merely viewed her as a friend, could it? Or was he just a naturally giving lover and she desperately wanted it to mean more on his part simply because she loved him so much?

David joined them then, breaking her out of her reverie and the conversation duly turned to work for the rest of the time it took for her to finish her drink. Deciding to take her leave as it was getting late, she thanked them for the present they'd given her then David drove her home. She thanked him again for the brightly wrapped gift and made her way slowly up the stairs to her apartment.

Once inside she pulled Killian's book from her pocket and looked at it a moment. Smiling wryly at the title again she then went through to her bedroom and placed it down on the nightstand.

After shedding her coat she went and hung it up then removed the boots from her aching feet and headed into the bathroom. She had a quick wash and brushed her teeth before donning some comfy pyjamas then went into the kitchen and warmed herself up some milk.

Back in her bedroom she settled into bed and sipped on her drink as she picked up his book.

A book it had taken him mere weeks to write because he'd been inspired he'd said. 

Interest piqued at what kind of story could have had him so motivated to write, she flipped it open to the first chapter and began to read. She was soon absorbed in the tale and as the night crept on she found she couldn't put it down. It was the early hours of the morning when she finally finished and as she closed the cover she swallowed hard against the ball of emotion that tightened her throat.

She was stunned. The book was about her, about them, she was sure of it. 

The pirate saving the princess after suffering a traumatic experience at the hands of a nasty prince was a definite allusion to her bad relationship with Neal and Killian's subsequent friendship. Then the pirate had fallen in love with the princess but kept his feelings hidden because he thought his advances wouldn't ever be welcome. In fact it wasn't until the end of the book when the pirate had been preparing to leave and the princess had thought she'd never see him again that they'd finally got together.

She turned the book over and stared at the front again just trying to take everything in then on a whim she opened the cover again and turned to the dedication page.

With a sharp intake of breath she read the words there and a soft smile lit up her face even as her eyes began to water.

'For ES,' it read, 'the princess to my pirate.'

It was a confirmation of everything she'd begun to suspect but hardly dared hope for and she needed to see him. 

Now.

Uncaring of the ridiculously early hour, she kicked back the covers then hurriedly pulled on her boots and grabbed her coat. Book in hand she then left her apartment and as her car was completely covered in snow, she carefully walked the few blocks to where Killian lived.

By the time she arrived she was frozen and mentally bemoaned the fact that she'd forgotten to put on her hat and gloves in her haste to see him. She pressed the intercom and waited then did it again then once more before he finally answered.

“Who the bloody hell is this and what is do dammed important that it can't wait until a decent hour?” came his groggy and highly irritated voice over the crackly machine.

“Killian, it's me,” she replied quickly, her breath floating away in the chill air, “I'm sorry I woke you but can I come up?”

The buzzer sounded almost immediately and she pushed the door open, grateful to be out of the cold. By the time she reached his apartment, his door was already open and he stood there, hair sticking up at all angles and looking as worried as hell as he ushered her inside.

“What's wrong?” he asked urgently as soon as he'd closed the door and turned to face her, his gaze roaming over her as if searching for some injury.

“Nothing,” she replied moving to stand right in front of him. A smile bloomed on her lips as she took in his handsome features and continued a little breathlessly, “I just needed to see you.”

His eyes briefly widened in surprise then his expression turned quizzical.

“And you couldn't wait until morning?” he asked in a low voice.

“No,” she replied just as quietly as she reached up and laid a hand on his t-shirt clad chest and shuffled a little closer to him, “I think we've both waited long enough, don't you?”

He drew in a sharp breath and looked back at her a little uncertainly then ventured in a low voice, “Before I read far too much into this, love, tell me it isn't down to too much Christmas spirits at David and Mary-Margaret's tonight.” 

Emma let out a throaty little laugh and shook her head. 

“I promise you I haven't touched a drop,” she assured him wryly, “I'm here because I read your book.”

His gaze registered his astonishment then his expression softened and a tender smile touched his lips as he lifted a hand to gently finger the ends of a lock of her hair.

“You read it and you didn't want to run?” he queried with a note of disbelieving wonder.

“Not away from you,” she admitted frankly, her gaze never wavering from his, wanting him to understand, “Not anymore.”

His smile widened then he leaned in slightly only to stop to gauge her reaction before finally closing the distance between them and kissing her gently, tentatively even, on the mouth. It was short and incredibly sweet and it completely took her breathe away. 

“You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that, love,” he told her meaningfully when he pulled back slightly.

“I have something else to tell you as well,” she murmured, instinctively swaying toward him to seek out his mouth again.

“Tell me later,” he suggested huskily before capturing her lips once more. 

All thoughts of what she'd been about to say flew out of her head and she let out a soft moan, giving in to her need to touch him. Winding her arms around his neck, she pressed herself flush against him and they met in a searing kiss. It felt so good to be in his arms again and her desire flared when Killian's hand tangled roughly in her hair as he pulled her even closer with a low groan of his on. It was hot and intense and Emma was so lost in the sensations he was evoking that when he suddenly tensed and began to pull away it took her a few seconds to realise what was happening. 

She looked up at him dazedly but it wasn't until she registered the shock on his face that reality came crashing back down upon her and she remembered that she failed to tell him one very important piece of news. 

“Emma?” he whispered faintly, his hands moving to grip her shoulders as he stepped back and glanced own at her stomach then up at her again, “Are you...?”

Her heart caught in her throat and she nodded, unsure of what his reaction was going to be but not wanting to hide it from him any longer. 

“Yes,” she clarified on a whisper, “that's what I wanted to tell you.”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders almost to the point of being painful but she didn't even register the discomfort. She was too busy watching his taut expression, looking for any tiny indication that he was pleased...or not.

“May I see?” he asked, his voice sounding a little strained.

She nodded mutely and he took his hands away as she slowly unbuttoned her coat to reveal her pyjamas and gently rounded stomach underneath. She wasn't very big yet and unless you knew she was pregnant her bump wasn't that noticeable under the large jumpers she'd begun to wear once the weather had turned colder. 

His jaw clenched when he saw her figure confirming her condition to him and the next thing she knew she was hauled back against him and he was kissing her passionately, desperately...lovingly.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked in mild rebuke when he eventually tore his lips from hers and had caught his breath. He stared down at her with a slightly incredulous expression then added, “Did you think I wouldn't want our child?”

“A part of me was frightened that you wouldn't,” she admitted honestly. He immediately looked hurt and turned his head away but she gently cupped his cheek coaxed him back to face her, trying to make him understand, “But then there was a part of me was worried that you'd only come back and stay with me because you thought you had to and not because you wanted to...and that scared me more.” 

Killian regarded her solemnly a moment then swallowed hard and shook his head.

“I can assure you, Emma, had I known, there is only one reason why I'd have come back and it wouldn't have been down to some misguided sense of duty.”

“It wouldn't?” she asked, her breath catching at the tenderness she saw shining in his eyes.

He shook his head then a small smile tugged at his mouth as he professed quietly, “No, it would have been because...I love you.”

Such a simple declaration, just three little words and yet Emma felt as though the whole world, along with her heart, had stopped for a moment then when it started up again everything was suddenly brighter...better. Happiness like she'd never known flowed through her body and she smiled tremulously back at him as tears of joy pricked at the back of her eyes. 

“I love you, too,” she breathed and then he was kissing her again and there was no more time for talking.

They spent the rest of the night together but this time there was no holding back of any kind. Whispered words of love and promises of evermore fell from their lips as they rediscovered each other in the most intimate of ways. Mapping out new curves with gentle touches and reverent kisses. Moving together in an age old rhythm, hard and fast, an affirmation of their newly declared, but long hidden love that had them both crying out in unbridled pleasure as they careened over the edge at the same time.

And when they lay spent, faces flushed from exertion and sharing soft kisses, Killian gathered her to him as before on that night many months ago. And when his arm came around her it now laid protectively over their growing child as well. And when Emma let out a sigh of contentment and snuggled in closer to him she knew that this time it wasn't just going to be for tonight...it was going to be forever.

END CHAPTER FOUR


	5. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Emma awoke to find the sunlight spilling in through the window and stretched lazily enjoying the slight burn in her pleasurably aching muscles. She turned her head to see Killian still fast asleep next to her and smiled. Rolling onto her side she propped herself up on one arm just so that she could simply look at him. 

He was handsome in profile, from his tousled hair, thick eyebrows and straight nose down to his strong jaw and perfectly kissable lips that could wreak delectable havoc on any part of her body. His beard was slightly denser from overnight growth and gave way to a long neck and broad shoulders that bore the tell tale marks of her unfettered passion from the previous night. Her gaze continued down, fingers itching to rake through the mildly abrasive dark hair that covered the expanse of his chest. She loved the feel of it under her hand and against her body when he moved. The hair tapered off to a line that disappeared under the duvet where it rode low on his hips and her tongue reflexively darted out to moisten her lips as she thought about what was hidden beneath. 

Unfortunately, her desire to wake him up in a completely sinful way had to be put on hold as a desire of another kind took over. With the baby pressing against her bladder the need to visit the bathroom was sudden and she'd learned early on that it was an urge that shouldn't be ignored. Added to that, she was starving and she knew if she didn't eat soon she was going to pay for it. 

Being careful not to disturb him, she leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek then got up and grabbed her clothes from the floor before heading out of the room. After freshening up she checked the time and was surprised to see that it was mid morning. No wonder she was hungry.

She went into his kitchen and looked in the fridge. Thankfully it appeared that he'd done some shopping upon his return. She grabbed some eggs, bread and milk and put them on the counter before preparing some coffee for Killian. As he didn't have decaf she settled on some orange juice for herself then set about making some breakfast for them both.

In the bedroom Killian stirred then slowly opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times as his mind came back to full awareness and with it the memory of the previous night. A smile lit his face and he turned his head eager to see Emma but it faded quickly when he saw that she wasn't there.

A sickening rush of deja vu had him lurching up to sit as he continued to stare at the spot where she'd lain just a few hours earlier. She couldn't have left again, could she? Not after all they'd said, all they'd shared. 

He tore his gaze from the bed and quickly glanced around the room, his stomach twisting into knots when he saw that her clothes were gone. Heart pounding, he was about to get out of bed when the door to the room suddenly swung open drawing his attention.

Emma breezed into the room carrying a tray and sporting a huge grin on her face.

“Hey, you're awake. I made us some breakfast,” she remarked happily as she put the tray down on a nearby small chest of drawers then turned and bent to give him a quick kiss before murmuring, “Merry Christmas, Killian.”

“Merry Christmas, love,” he replied, giving her an overly dazzling smile that held more than a touch of relief.

She frowned slightly sensing something was a little off.

“Are you okay?” she asked, eyeing him in concern.

“Of course,” he dismissed far too quickly.

Before she could say anything else he threw back the covers and uncaring of his nakedness, stood up then pulled her in for another kiss. It was more heated than the last and if it was a way of reassuring himself that she was still there, then it was only because he felt all kinds of fool for ever doubting her in the first place. 

“So what delights have you rustled up for breakfast?” he asked looking at the food with interest when they eventually broke apart.

“Eggs,” Emma retorted then raised a hand to cup his cheek and bring his gaze back her hers before asking, “But I want you to tell me what's wrong first.”

“There's nothing wrong, Emma, I assure you,” he answered firmly. She gave him a highly sceptical look clearly not believing him and he let out a long sigh knowing she wouldn't let it go. “I was just being ridiculous for a moment when I woke up and you weren't there, that's all,” he admitted reluctantly.

She regarded him silently for a moment then her eyes widened as it hit her what he meant.

“You thought I'd left like last time...didn't you?” she questioned incredulously, suddenly realising just how much she must have hurt him that morning months ago. 

If only she'd known then what she did now.

Killian gave her a faint smile then pointed out wryly, “I told you I was being ridiculous, love.”

“No. You're not,” she refuted softly wanting to make it better. Smiling up at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved nearer, “From now on I'll just make sure to wake you first.” 

“I like that sound of that,” he responded with a slow grin of his own, indescribably pleased that she was talking as though it was a given that they were together now. That there would be more mornings like this in their future. Perhaps, if he were the luckiest of men, of an even more permanent nature eventually too. 

He slid his arms around her waist then pulled her that bit closer and he dipped his head to kiss her tenderly. It was at that moment that Emma's stomach let out a very long, very loud growl and he pulled back to look at her mortified face with an amused smile.

“Sorry,” she apologised, looking a little embarrassed as she lay a hand on her bump, “The past couple of weeks it's like I've been eating for four, not two.”

“No need to apologise, love,” Killian assured her with a laugh, “That's just the first of many things I want to know about what's happening with you and our baby. Now, go and get comfortable and I'll bring breakfast over.”

She did as he suggested and sat cross legged on the bed, feeling a little disappointed when he grabbed some pyjama bottoms out of the drawer and put them on. He then brought the food over and while they ate they began to talk. About everything. About the past, about the time they'd been apart and most importantly, a little of the future.

And as they lay in bed that night, with Emma wrapped snugly in Killian's embrace, they both drifted off to sleep secure in the knowledge that, no matter what, now they had each other.

Not just tonight.

Not just tomorrow.

Just...always.

THE END


End file.
